


Routine

by cupcake4mafia



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Fighting, Gen, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, mutual frustration and helplessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcake4mafia/pseuds/cupcake4mafia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, this is just a really sad drabble about Jun and Sho fighting and pining sometime around 2006. Like, if you want to make yourself sad, be my guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> For the bae, who asked me to write her “sho/jun with fighting and pining”  
> ...and then was upset when I told her it wouldn’t have a happy ending \\(x u x )/
> 
> Thanks so much to [kinoface](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface) for the beta read this so sorely needed!

Jun changes his shirt three times before dinner, hating himself all the while. He finally settles on a plain, black v-neck, stopping just one more time at the mirror to move just a hint of fringe out from under his knit hat. Hand on the door, he takes a deep breath.

 _Smile. Be thankful. Day one went perfectly,_ he tells himself.

 _Drink. Drink. Drink until you don’t give a shit,_ he hears. It sounds like a plan.

The others are waiting by the time he makes it down to the lobby. Aiba’s on him almost immediately, trying to teach him three new lewd Chinese phrases while their translator wheezes with laughter. If Jun weren't paying attention, he might not even notice that Sho won’t make eye contact with him.

It’s not a fight. Not really. The five of them don’t _have_ fights; they have “misunderstandings” or “bad days.”

Jun knows how to deal with it by now. He holds back, waits and lets Sho take his pick of seats in the van, seats in the restaurant. Sho is sure as hell never going to give him space - even now, on their first round of beers, he’s already interrupting Jun’s conversation with their translator with the _expert_ knowledge of Taipei he’s gained from two or three guidebooks - so, Jun has to be the one.

It only took a few seconds of forgetting that for Jun to ruin this trip.

 

* * *

 

"You need to be stage left," Jun said into his mic.

Sho dropped his hands mid-clap and looked out into the arena, towards where Jun was sitting.

"Stage _left,_ " Jun repeated, just as he'd been repeating for a week of rehearsals.

From where he was sitting Jun could just make out the sullen pout on Sho's face as he walked slowly and lifelessly to his mark. Jun sighed and turned his head towards their translator.

"Cut the music, please."

Jun hopped up from his seat and headed towards the stage as his message was passed on to the crew. Ohno, Aiba, and Nino were already relaxed and chatting with each other, but Sho was still standing stock still on his mark.

"I'm here," Sho said, lifting up his mic. "Now what?"

Jun was supposed to ignore Sho’s tone, but Jun had been ignoring all _sorts_ of things ever since they landed in Taipei and he wasn't sure how many more he had in him.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Jun asked, quietly.

"Stage left," Sho repeated, too loudly for his mic. "I've got it."

"Okay, you say that, but every time we get here-"

"Stage left. Okay. I'm here. Now what?"

"You need to be here _on time._ "

Sho rolled his eyes and turned away. Jun froze in surprise - usually Sho had the decency to turn away _first_. Still, this was Jun’s opportunity to let it go. Sho was going to take it somewhere else - to Nino, probably, where it would all be absorbed without comment. It was Jun’s job to let that happen.

Maybe in Japan he could have - could have turned his attention back to the Juniors or found a staff member to pretend he needed to consult with. A thousand miles away and no one on stage but the five of them, though, Jun just couldn’t bring himself to let it go. He followed Sho, notepad still in hand, until he could corner him in the scaffolding under a moving platform.

“I wasn’t finished!” he told Sho, his voice sounding so much smaller than he expected to - but it wasn’t like that was new.

Sho turned on his heels. Jun jumped a little, in spite of himself, but he fought the urge to take a step back.

“Oh, please, tell me what else you have to say. Tell me how else I’m fucking this thing up.”

“It’s not-”

“It’s not what? Huh?”

“Sho.”

“For fuck’s _sake_ , concert master, this isn’t exactly Tokyo Dome.”

“I know-”

“I think I can make it to the other end of the stage without straining myself too hard.”

“Listen!” Jun snapped his fingers in Sho’s face. Sho’s eyes went wide and something like a fire alarm went off in the back of Jun’s mind, but his mouth wouldn’t stop: “I have blocked this fucking show down to a half-second, I _know_ what you can and cannot afford to do. So, if I say you need to be back at stage left by the end of the chorus, then you need to be back at stage left by the end of the chorus.”

“And what happens if I’m not there?” Sho asked, going quiet and squaring his shoulders in a way Jun had long trained himself not to react to. “Does a bomb go off? Does the world come to an end?”

“The blocking-”

“If the blocking has to be perfect down to the last second to work then maybe it’s not the best blocking,” Sho shrugged, raising his eyebrows in a mockery of confusion. “I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong, it just seems like-”

“If you’re not going to take this seriously-”

“Oh, yes, of course, I don’t take anything seriously. That’s me. Just a guy who fucks around.”

“This is about everyone working together.”

“Is it? Or is it about doing exactly what Matsujun says so he doesn’t throw a tantrum?”

Jun looked away, immediately, but kept himself from biting his lip. Sho still thought that was a  trump card in his deck; Jun _couldn’t_ prove him right.

“You two.”

Jun looked up to find Ohno standing on the edge of the platform, his face shadowed under the brim of his hat.

“We really should run this song again with all five of us, don’t you think? Everyone’s having a little trouble with the choreography.”

Jun felt his stomach twist at how uncharacteristically firm Ohno sounded. Dazed, he nodded and answered. “Yes, of course.”

At his side, Sho mumbled an “Okay,” and shuffled away.

Heart still pounding and fingers still gripped tight around his notepad, Jun waited one cowardly minute before following.

 

* * *

 

After their second round, their translator and all the staff decide to leave the five of them alone. Their manager also helpfully reminds them to take pictures for the photobook. There are no free dinners in this world.

“Matsujuuun,” Sho sings out, setting his glass on the table in a decisive motion. “Talk to me real quick.”

Jun feels Nino’s knee nudge his under the table. He wants to be annoyed, but really he’s glad for the gesture because he is way too sober for this.

“Yes?” he asks, as plainly as possible.

“I think I misunderstood you earlier today,” Sho says, making all kinds of polite eye contact. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused.”

He smiles sheepishly and bows his head. Jun tries not to pay attention to the obvious, anxious stares from the other three.

“No, it was my fault,” Jun insists, nodding his head. “I was having a bad morning and wasn’t listening well to anyone.”

“Let’s work together, then.”

Sho holds out his hand across the table. It’s an over-the-top gesture, but one that Jun knows from experience is actually sincere. Still, as soon as they shake and Nino is done with his obligatory “awww,” they both let go as if they couldn’t wait.

“Aiba, say dog shit again,” Ohno immediately mumbles into his drink.

“GO SHEEE!” Aiba says, raising a finger in the air triumphantly. “NEE SHEE GO SHEE!”

“That can’t be right!” Jun argues, between laughs.

“Chen-san says that my Chinese has improved the MOST out of ANYONE here!” Aiba insists, pointing an accusatory finger at each of them.

“You can’t say your fucking Chinese name!” Nino scolds him, reaching out to tickle his sides.

Sighing, Jun leans back, resting his weight on his hands, and lets his eyes fall on Ohno, across the table. Ohno gestures for him to come over and Jun groans, practically crawling around the table before snuggling up to his side.

“Thank you for everything today,” Ohno says, quietly. “And for tomorrow, too.”

 

* * *

 

Jun is driven out of bed by loud knocking on his door. Fearing the worst, he has his phone and wallet in hand before he looks through the peephole.

It’s Sho, leaning on the door with his head hanging.

Jun contemplates pretending he isn’t there, until Sho asks for him much too loudly: “Matsujun, please!”

“Shut the hell up,” Jun whispers angrily as he opens the door and drags Sho inside.

Sho grabs on to Jun’s arm to stay steady and Jun wrinkles his nose at the stink of booze.

“Well, shit,” Sho slurs, a bit of a laugh under the words. “You aren’t so scrawny anymore.”

“That’s right,” Jun answers, shucking Sho off just hard enough to send him one step back.

“I mean I saw that,” Sho rambles. “I see that. Feeling is different, though.”

Instinctively, Jun moves to hug his arms with his hands, but he catches himself and crosses back to his bed instead, dropping his things on the nightstand.

“What do you want?” he asks, back turned. “Other than to embarrass yourself in front of all the staff in our hall.”

“I want you to forgive me.”

Jun meets his eyes and finds them red and watery.

“You are _wasted,_ ” Jun says, shaking his head.

“What are you, then?” Sho snaps back, apparently forgetting his mission of apology.

“I’m smart enough to stop drinking when Aiba does,” Jun answers.

Admittedly, his words are coming a bit sluggish. At least Jun - _like any decent human_ \- has been doing his best to sleep it off. Suddenly self-conscious about speaking, Jun heads to the bathroom to get Sho some water. Sho trails behind him, leaning in the doorway and staring at his reflection.

“Forgive me,” he says again, pressing his face against the door frame.

“I already did,” Jun reminds him, holding out a paper cup of water with a frown. “We shook hands and everything.”

“That’s not it,” Sho says, shaking his head slowly. “That’s just a symptom.”

“Okay,” Jun says, pursing his lips. “Fine.”

“No, it’s not- it’s not fucking- it’s not _fine_ with me. I don’t want us to be like this.”

Sho’s frankness catches Jun off-guard and before he can think he answers, “I don’t either.”

“Really?” Sho asks, stepping forward. “Honestly?”

“Of course,” Jun answers, looking away. “You think I enjoy working like this?”

Sho lurches forward, wrapping his arms around Jun’s body. Jun’s hands clench into fists - squeezing the paper cup and splashing its contents all over both of them. He stands frozen as Sho tucks his forehead into his neck.

“I miss you,” Sho sighs.

“I’m right _here,_ ” Jun says, louder than he really needs to be.

“You are but you aren’t.”

The fucking flowery, literary way Sho chooses to say it gives Jun the strength to push him back out at arm's length.

“This is me. Right here. I didn’t turn out how you wanted me to? Too bad. You didn’t turn out how I wanted you, either.”

“Jun…”

Sho reaches a hand out to touch the side of Jun’s face.

“You’re drunk. Go to bed.”

It’s the kindest thing Jun could possibly say right now, so _of course_ Sho does the cruelest thing he could do and kisses him. Eyes open wide, Jun lets it happen. A small, shameful part of him has wondered for a while if this would help. After a few seconds of trying unsuccessfully to make himself return the kiss in any way, he realizes it won’t. Sho lays a line of sloppy kisses along Jun’s jaw, moving towards his neck, and Jun starts considering his options. His hands, still curled into fists, have their ideas, but he’s not confident that he could keep himself from hitting Sho’s face. So, quickly - too quick for unsteady Sho - Jun side-steps out of the bathroom and closes the door before Sho can follow.

Plunged back into near-black darkness, Jun holds on to the doorknob with both hands.

“Jun.”

Sho tries to open the door but Jun holds the knob still.

“Jun. Hey. Come on.”

Jun jumps in surprise as Sho knocks loudly on the door, but he doesn’t give up his grip.

“Jun, please, I just...” Jun hears a thud and a slide - Sho leaning against the door, he guesses. “I just want to fix this. I know it’s my fault. Tell me how to fix it.”

“What’s your fault?” Jun asks, looking towards the door as if Sho could feel his eyes. “What do you need to fix?”

“This.”

“What is ‘this'?”

No answer.

“Come on, Sho, _what_ do you want me to forgive you for?”

“For telling you to stop,” Sho groans, voice muffled by something as he continues: “For telling you it didn’t mean anything. That was a lie. It didn’t mean what I thought it should mean, but, it meant _something._ ”

Jun winces, squeezing his eyes shut. He could laugh if he weren't so close to tears. He really shouldn’t be so surprised that Sho would pick  _that_ out of all possible reasons for this rift between them, and yet the realization seems to sink things to a new low.

“So when you say you ‘miss me,’ you mean you miss me being young and stupid enough to crawl into bed with you?”

Something crashes to the floor in the bathroom and Jun stands upright, repositioning his hands on the door. He knows Sho would never hurt him physically, but, still.

“Is- is that what you think? Is that what you think I think? About you? Jesus, Jun...fucking...how…”

“What did you think that kiss would do? Did you think I’d cry? Did you think I’d get on my knees again and that would make everything okay?”

Jun  _is_ crying now, but Sho doesn’t need to know that.

“No! I don’t- I don’t know, I just thought-”

Sho sounds pathetic trying to come up with an excuse, but Jun can’t really enjoy it. There’s no point to this conversation. Either Sho is drunk enough to forget it or he will pretend to be.

“Did I…” Sho starts, quiet enough that Jun has to lean closer to the door. “Did I make you feel like that? Back then?”

Jun sighs and lets go of the door. He sits on the floor, leaning back against the bed, and waits. Sho doesn’t come out, though. Worried, Jun finally answers him:

“You didn’t ‘make me’ anything, alright? Calm down. As for putting an end to it - you were right about that. The second I turned eighteen I knew you were right about that.”

Sho still says nothing.

“So, shocking as it is, this all has _nothing_ to do with your dick. That means you’re not going to _fix it_ with your dick, either, understood?”

More silence. Anxious, Jun turns on his bedside lamp and opens the bathroom door. He gasps when Sho slides down to the floor, on his back, but a loud snore allays the worst of his fears.

All pretense between them having basically been flung out the window, Jun goes ahead and kicks Sho in the side.

“Fuck!” Sho groans.

“Get off my floor!”

“It’s not ‘your floor,’ it’s the hotel’s floor,” Sho protests, holding his side as though Jun had kicked him with a steel-toed boot.

“Thank you so much for that clarification, I was so very confused.”

Jun grabs a handful of Sho’s sweatshirt and tugs until Sho’s sitting up. Frustrated, Jun lets go and sits back on the floor next to him.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” Sho squints at Jun’s face like he can’t quite make it out. “What were we talking about?”

Jun scratches the back of his head until the frustration dulls down to something manageable.

“You want me to forgive you,” he says, flatly. “But you don’t know what you did wrong.”

“Oh,” Sho breathes. “That.”

They sit in the dark for a few moments.

“Shit, I made you cry again, didn’t I?” Sho suddenly whispers, leaning close.

“You think you have all this control over me,” Jun thinks aloud, shaking his head. “How is it you think that and you still...”

“I’m sorry,” Sho says, tucking his forehead against his knees.

Sho’s crying, now - embarrassing, drunken sobs - and Jun breaks every good habit he’s built up over the years just to reach out and put his hand on Sho’s shoulder. Of course, that only results in a louder sob as Sho grabs that hand and squeezes it.

“Always throwing tantrums,” Jun scolds him, gently. Sho lets out a little hiccough of a laugh and lets Jun extract his hand. “You’re not even going to remember this.”

“I wish I could.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know that you wanted this to be over, too,” Sho confesses.

Jun glances at Sho and finds him staring straight ahead into the bathroom, eyes wide, cheeks wet. For a brief moment Jun imagines promising Sho that he’ll say it again when they’re both sober, but that’s a promise he can’t be sure he’ll keep. So, for now, he settles on dragging Sho up and pushing him towards the bed.

“Go to sleep you slob,” he commands, pulling the covers up over Sho’s fully-clothed body while Sho puts up a weak defense.

“Here?” he asks, high-pitched.

“I don’t trust you to make it back to your room.”

“What about you?” Sho continues, grabbing on to the sheets as if he doesn’t realize that he’s already on his back.

“I’ll go sleep with Aiba.”

“Eh? Is that what you do now?”

Recoiling, Jun holds his hands up at shoulder height to keep himself from using them.

"I swear to God, Sho, shut your giant mouth or I will shut it _for_ you. I’m not 'scrawny' anymore, remember?”

“I remember,” Sho says, unnerved but obviously missing the point of Jun’s request.

Sighing, Jun grabs his essentials from the nightstand and heads to the bathroom. With his free hand he holds a washcloth under cold water for half a minute, then presses it under both eyes. Finally, he checks his reflection. His hair is frazzled from where Sho’s driven him to nearly tear it out. The sight almost makes him smile, but he knows it will worry Aiba, so he combs it back with his fingers.

He turns out the light too soon and struggles to find his slippers in the dark. Once he does, and has his hand on the door, he listens for Sho’s snoring. It hasn’t started yet.

Jun could probably still have the last word if he wanted to, but it doesn’t really matter. He stopped tallying their little victories years ago.

It’s not a fight. Not really. Neither of them can win.


End file.
